Balancing Act
by TAZ-maniyack
Summary: Zuko asks Aang to take Azula's bending. Katara, ever the mother and healer, thinks about the poor girl she chained up during Sozin's Comet, whom she doesn't /really/ know. Compassion, guilt, and curiosity combine. A mix of Kataang, Azulaang, and Azutara. Restarted from a new account.
1. Chapter 1

Balancing Act: Chapter 1

by: TAZ-maniack

"I'm not sure I'm ready to do this, Katara."

The healer's blue eyes were raptly attentive. "What do you mean?"

Aang dug his first two fingers and his thumb into each of his own eyes.

Then he looked around the main hall of the Fire Nation palace, where they were waiting on a message that would tell them the Fire Lord was prepared to admit them to a private meeting. Katara was holding his other hand.

"Was it something about Roku's Island?" she asked, fitting her unoccupied digits onto the tops of his knuckles.

It had been almost four months since he had saved the Earth Kingdom, but more importantly, it had only been four months since he had scarred Ozai's soul.

In the past few hours, the concept had really _solidified_ into this interpretation, he realized.

It wasn't that it felt that way when it happened. It had only looked that way in retrospect.

He hadn't dwelt on it. There was too much to do, too many feuds that needed settling, too many treaties that needed consideration, too many minor spirits, like Hei Bai, long neglected, just in the Earth Kingdom and the colonies alone. Managing his duties had kept the thirteen year old Avatar very busy, and moving from place to place constantly. Now that he had no one after him, and no specific directive, prioritizing which problems to solve first was a major headache. With Appa, he was the fastest responder to any summons. On the strictly mortal and human plane, (which he personally found more convoluted by conflicting interests and still tense negotiations) he was as good as an extension of the newly instated Fire Lord's eyes and ears, and the most trusted reporter. Outright mortal danger had been replaced by this whirlwind of responsibility the airbender had to steer through. And sometimes he thought he wished he were moving through an actual whirlwind instead.

Surprisingly, he had actually gotten a lot of time alone with Katara. Suki and the Kyoshi warriors had volunteered to stay on as the Earth King's guard, as the ruler had originally envisioned. Sokka said he could help the Earth King learn how to effectively run his city and reform the Dai Li. (Though the rest of the Gaang knew this was only partially an excuse to stay with Suki.) Aang dropped Toph off at Gaoling and arranged to come back for her after she had smoothed things out with her parents. Several weeks later, he and Katara had gotten a letter out of the blue from Sokka in Ba Sing Se which told them that Toph had left on her own and was there with them at the palace in the northeast. Still in the southern Earth Kingdom, they hadn't heard from her again until she contacted them through Sokka a second time with the idea to go to the Fire Nation and help Zuko weed out the less truthful and trustworthy politicians in his court with her earthbending senses. They had ferried her to her chosen destination. On the flight over, she had explained to them firsthand how she couldn't stand any more of the Bei Fong's admonishments.

This day, Zuko had an especially important request for the Avatar. But now Aang was getting cold feet, which would be funny, considering he could produce flame from his soles, except that the humor was clearly not appropriate right now.

He had shared this reluctance with Katara earlier, but the_ immediacy_ had spurred him to mire himself again in the implications of what the young Fire Lord was asking of him.

In an attempt to discover whether he ever had the option of reversing Ozai's condition, he had gone to examine the deposed dictator in his prison, and traveled to the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole to enter the Spirit World. But even Koh hadn't been able to tell him anything about the rediscovered talent. He had no idea how to find the aquatic reptilian feline who had bequeathed it to him again, either. On this last and most important flight he had stopped in a last ditch effort at the island where Roku's Temple once stood, where spiritual energies still radiated faintly, but he hadn't really been expecting anything of it.

Katara's temper showed her distress at his long silence. "You _told_ me this wouldn't be dangerous for you! But you might be "corrupted and destroyed." That's what the Lion Turtle said, right?"

"Yes. But that's not what I'm worried about." he reassured her. He kissed each of her hands and felt some amount of regret for letting her in on that particular anecdote, but he knew that he needed to trust her with his thoughts. "Katara, I did this on the day of the comet with little to no preparation, when I had barely restrained the Avatar State properly. I've trained the Avatar State a few times since then. And I know what to expect from the spiritbending, unlike the first time."

"I know Ozai is the most powerful _bender_ in the Fire Nation. But what if that's not what determines how difficult this is? What if it's something _else?_"

"Listen. When I spiritbended Ozai . . . we were kind of like two separate spirits, fighting for 'dominance.' But it was also like . . ." he rubbed her hand between his own fingers, as if attempting to use it as a touchstone for ideas. ". . . we were thrown together in a vat and blended together until it was almost unrecognizable. What I had to do, to keep from being overcome, was to first find "myself" again. "Your own spirit must be unbendable." The most important factor in all of it was what I was feeling. Me. I_ know_ this, Katara." he emphasized. It was an intuitive knowledge, maybe, but that's what the Avatar seemed to operate off of, especially where the Spirit World was concerned, Aang surmised. "What bothers me . . . I had to gather together all the good pieces in that mix, _all of them_," he stressed, "and expel the rest, become unyielding to them, and use that purified essence to enter his body."

Katara nodded, familiar with the concept, and every new spin he tried to describe it in. "There were good parts of him you took hold of."

"It's not a quantitative thing, at all, though." Aang brooded to himself, as he had frequently done before. "It's not like I could tell 'how much' of him was good. Only how much of me was goo-" his face fell, and his hand squeezed hers in apprehension. It had been nothing short of thrilling in that moment to force out the threatening ruddy glow that held a dark piece of his own spirit. Opening his chakras had certainly meant that he was a master of his feelings, but not that they had been blotted out like a simple stain on yesterday's laundry. People were more complicated than that.

"Aang, you are the best person in the world," his girlfriend crooned. "I'll bet the bad piece of you is so tiny that you couldn't see it with that dorky magnifying glass Sokka wore when you were in prison."

He dropped his hands. "But that's what the Lion Turtle warned against. "The true heart can touch the poison of hatred without being harmed." Hatred is in all of us. We have to recognize that, and face it. Not let it bend us. The illusion of anyone being that "pure good" I felt . . . If one person thinks they're right no matter what, and there's no convincing them otherwise . . ."

" . . . then they'll do anything to assert themselves, and call it justified." Katara finished for him, slipping her hand back into its place.

"If I get to feel that pure good again . . . well, I'd actually look forward to it." He studied the tiled floorwork beneath him with a pronounced frown. The pair of two dimensional dragons, rendered by the rows upon rows of tiny polygons, began with their heads at the entryway, looping around pillars on each side. They were so long, in fact, that their hind legs were completely free. Their tails mirrored each other in diminishing waves down the center of the room, making smaller and smaller "bubble" spaces and ending up near the four eyes again. The squares served well for simulated scales, but while elaborate and beautiful in its own right, the mosaic was so mundane in comparison to the two living, breathing creatures he and Zuko met. It was rather like trying to put spiritbending into words, or the many other experiences he had as the Avatar. "But knowing that good is partly comprised of my victim-"

Katara sounded an affronted grunt of protest at the virulent choice of term. "Victim?"

"Yes," he didn't lift his head. "What kind of person does that make me, to look forward to ripping at someone's spirit? Even if it's _necessary?_ Even if they might deserve it?"

After another thoughtful pause, Katara took hold of his empty hand. "Aang, look at me."

He did so, albeit timidly.

"I understand. When Ty Lee took away my bending, even temporarily, well . . . I hated it. I'd imagine-" She bit her lip. "Well, I don't want to imagine losing it forever. But I think this does need to be done. The danger posed to the world depends on it."

"You're sure that's not just your bias against the Fire Nation talking?" His question wasn't defensive or inflammatory, just equally contemplative. Katara's dislike of firebenders hadn't dissipated with her acceptance of Zuko, only lessened a lot. The Fire Lord actually understood this, because his people were brought up with so much war propaganda that they were hostile to foreigners. The Water Tribes had an especially bad rap as backwards primitives. He had requested that Katara still treat people outwardly with the same respect she would give anyone else. She had promised to honor his wishes, but didn't always do a stellar job.

"No, this is as much for the stability of the Fire Nation, isn't it?" Katara returned.

The young Avatar dropped his gaze again, chastened into defeat.

Nevertheless, he drew comfort from her next few puffs of air across his nose as the waterbender drew closer. She bent her forehead down to rest against his. " . . . but if, after we've discussed it with them . . . you still really don't want to do this, you'll have to stand up for it. Zuko will try to shut you down. He's put a lot of energy and effort into . . ." she trailed off. "If you feel that way, then he has to accept it. You're the higher authority, here."

"I don't know about that." Aang mumbled. "He knows more about how his nation works . . . about how rebels will flock to a strong Nationalist leader . . ."

"But you're the Avatar. It's your power and your decision." Katara insisted.

"You're always on my side, even when you aren't?" he teased, looking up.

"Apparently." Those wonderful blue eyes crinkled, smiling.

The two benders, still touching at all three points, both sprang apart at the sound of a throat clearing. They hadn't even noticed the page's approach, so caught up in their private moment.

"Excuse me, Avatar Aang, Princess Katara. The Fire Lord and his Advisor Lady Bei Fong are ready to see you now."

The waterbender grew huffy, but not because of the timing. "I've told you all to _stop_ calling me _Prin_-"

"Katara . . ." Aang gripped her arm, not hard enough to hurt, but sufficient to cut her off.

"Thank you." The monk told the man courteously. Knowing he would escort them otherwise, and preferring to walk alone with Katara, he added peaceably, "No dishonor meant, but we can find our own way to his study."

After two bemused blinks, the man regained his formal demeanor and bowed out. "Very good, sir."

Aang had taken this same route several times, but none felt like this present walk. His step was brisk enough. He looked forward to seeing Zuko and Toph after such a long time traveling. But each step also felt like he was pulling a five pound brick along behind it. His mind still wasn't really made up.

"What was _that_ for?" Katara touched the place his hand had been as they walked.

"I know it's frustrating that they don't understand your tribe's customs." Aang replied quietly. "But I think you should let it go."

"_Hmph_. That's easy for _you_ to say. You like it when they call you "Avatar.""

"I've had to overcome reluctance about being the Avatar. Am I not allowed to be comfortable with it?"

"The wisdom bit isn't fooling me, Aang. You like the attention."

It wasn't a scold, but close. Could he help the pleasure that had started at Kyoshi Island's celebrative reaction, grown at the North Pole's feast, and increased more from there? After being an approximation of an outcast one hundred years ago for the very same reason, it was a more than welcome change. But he had been a little show offy in the past months. "Okay. You're right. And Monk Gyatso would admire your humility, and might get after me for the lack."

Tamed by the compliment, she backpedaled, "I, ah. You're _very_ selfless. I didn't mean you don't have any humility."

The still young boy sequestered within the mature dialog showed through as he quirked a silly eyebrow. "You're going to give me a big head and get rid of it completely." The girl giggled. "But seriously, please don't bring up the Princess thing with Zuko again." He noted that they had almost reached the room and hastily pressed on. "He's always embarrassed enough with the way people in the palace act, over much worse things. Remember what he said to you and Sokka?"

Katara rolled her eyes, and recalled the leader's words almost verbatim. "Every politician that sees Chief as roughly equivalent to royalty is a step in the right direction for people who have been taught that only the Fire Lord is rightful sovereign of the entire world." She lowered her voice and looked around warily so no one would overhear her next comment, "Sure, Aang. That might take care of the cursed "fire supremacy" oozing out of every _nook and cranny_ of this place, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm _not _a princess."

To the Southern Tribe, it was odd that Katara and Sokka should be given titles. Until either of them stepped up to lead, the two were seen as just another member of the tribe, and could be easily replaced if Hakoda saw fit, with no fuss from anyone. Bato was the prime candidate, and recognized successor, currently. Experience and age was given precedent over youngsters, offspring of the chief or no. The Swamp Tribe, they learned, after Katara's casual inquiry, had no official chief at all.

"Blasted Northern Tribe just confusing the issue . . ." For all Chief Arnook's pomp, he was going against the belief that tribes should be treated as one entity, not separate, discrete, or stratified parts. She had discouraged and mocked Sokka's bragging to Yue about being a prince for the same reason. Family was extremely important to the people of the sea and rivers, as Iroh had taught Zuko when they were exiles, but more in the sense of overarching community than "nuclear" family units. "But I guess you're right. Zuko has enough to deal with."

It might prove incendiary besides, if she kept rudely refusing everyone else. It was exhausting to try to explain this alien concept to every new Fire Nation delegate. "And if they're trying to extend respect to you, in their nation's way," he nudged her shoulder by leaning into her gently, "I don't think they deserve having their heads bitten off for that."

By now they had arrived at the study.

Four guards stiffly saluted the pair. The inner two opened each of the double doors. Inside, books lined the shelves of the mini library. Zuko's desk sat behind one left turn and one right. They made a ninety degree angle "S," designed to give Fire Lords auditory warning to compose themselves for guests before they could see him. Stained glass windows let in plentiful ambient light, with the largest one behind the desk. Although they did break down into straight edged four cornered polygons, unlike the mosaic, some were as large as people, and the smallest ones were still arm length. The complicated mosaic used mostly squares in graduated hues, but the windows sported irregular trapezoids and parallelograms, starkly and simply invoking the upward thrust of spires of fire in just three colors. While the inner part of the palace, the throne room and the hallways, were devoid of windows, most every perimeter room was crammed with them. Even if the Sun Warrior's verbal teachings had been obscured by history, architecture hadn't followed strictly down the path of spoken beliefs. As soon as glass manufacturing had been invented during the time of Sozin, every firebender wanted sunrays in their homes, perhaps driven by a natural desire. The palace had been expanded on, to keep the centuries old walls and floors in place but accommodate this new trend (indifferently displacing several minor nobles' houses in the process.) Anyone with a curious eye might notice differences in styles, from furniture to the crown moldings on the ceilings. The older parts of the palace had more painstaking and masterful details. Art had been devalued with the shift of focus to militarism and utilitarianism. Out of this, however, minimalism took root and evolved. Artisanship had never been completely discarded.

Aang's second and third Masters were standing in the open space of the room not occupied with chairs, waiting for them. Yellow beams caught the Fire Lord's crown, winking and flashing blindingly off the flat golden surface. The ribbons of bright trim on his robe multiplied their effect too, but in a much more muted way. Toph's pale green dress, in contrast, looked odd cast in an orange swathe and marred by streaks of red.

"It's good to see you guys!" Aang trotted the last few steps to hug his friends. The airbender wanted to start this grim business off on a positive note.

Katara copied his gesture as veritably, but perhaps as unconsciously, as a lizard parrot. "It really is good to see you." Then she perked up. "Hey, Toph, are you all right?" Like a homing beacon, the waterbender picked on some small sign of discomfort she was giving off. Aang couldn't have guessed what it was.

"I'm fine." The earthbender said hardily and waved her hand dismissively.

"So Mai left from Omashu, right?" Aang asked Zuko.

The noble had wanted to find out personally where her parents had gone after the city was taken over during the eclipse. They were the leaders of the colonized set up, and had good reason to fear for their lives, with a "crazy" king on the loose.

"She'll be arriving soon." he confirmed.

"Bumi sent a letter to Zuko." Toph said. "He said he apologized to her, but he wasn't so sure if she forgave him. Something about having a face . . . well, like a stone." She smirked. "Bumi's such a card."

"Sometimes it makes me jealous you seem to know my old friend better than I do." Aang teased.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about his visit to the Jasmine Dragon and the Earth King while I was in Ba Sing Se. I didn't think to mention it because we were caught up with other things."

"It's okay. You guys even hung out before that, too, right?"

"Yeah, while we were looking for you, when you went on your little Lion Turtle adventure and we were at the White Lotus camp. And by the way, Bumi says Sokka thinks like a mad genius."

Aang grinned from ear to ear. "That's a high compliment."

"Captain Boomerang thought so, too."

They all shared a chuckle.

The four benders then dropped into a lapse, where consciousness of the situation and the world in general seemed to stifle the previously sunny atmosphere as if a bank of fog had rolled in. Lips tightened. Eyes wandered.

"Well, we all know why we're here." The Fire Lord turned to his desk to place a hand on a scroll, and his deep words dragged. "Toph and I finished the last of the interrogations a few days ago."

She sank down in one of the chairs.

Zuko handed him the scroll, and he unfurled it.

He counted thirteen lines, all neatly scribed on rice paper in his friend's unmistakable handwriting.

"That many?" Katara gasped, leaning over his shoulder.

"_You_ were expecting less?" Zuko's face showed mild disbelief.

" . . . Yeah."

"Well, that shows you're putting your promise to good work, at least," the firebender said gravely.

Aang sat down, having to take several minutes to soak it in.

Thirteen names. Thirteen Fire Nation officers, sentenced to lifelong deprivation of bending. Thirteen lives that he determined the futures of.

"And this is the _parsed down_ number?" he asked for confirmation as Katara took a place close to him.

"Bare bones. To verify this short list, I have reports on each person." Zuko indicated additional stacks of paper. "I can answer any questions you have."

"I wish spiritbending allowed me to make some sort of judgment on their pasts and personalities," he said forlornly, scanning the names again. "To see the people they are."

"Do you not trust Zuko's _judgement?_" Toph snapped suddenly, and Aang looked to her, surprised by the unexpected hostility. "Do you not trust _my_ word? What these guys have _done,_ I have no Earthly clue what spiritbending is, Aang, but if it means you have to somehow _touch_ any of _what's_ in their heads,"

She jerked forward and hurried motion from the firebender drew Aang's gaze. Zuko cleared the few long strides around his desk and back so swiftly that it wasn't until he was setting a pail in front of her, towel already over his elbow, that Aang understood what happened, and the mishap the Fire Lord seemed to be very much prepared for.

A color that almost matched the green of her dress was tinging the white skin of her face, but she had clapped a hand over her mouth and didn't retch again, suppressing the demand of her body.

One of his hands had come forward, as if to rub her back or steady her shoulder, but halfway there it had stopped indecisively. Both Katara and Aang had leaned forward in their chairs too, not quite rising, but prepared to.

She deliberately lowered her hand and equally as deliberately claimed, "I'm fine." She couldn't make direct eye contact, but by the angle of her head she was clearly addressing Zuko.

"I shouldn't have let Iroh talk me into-"

"You're going to make me throw up if you keep on with this stupid, whiny guilt trip thing."

Heedless, he hovered over her, the young man every inch the image of a concerned parent. "You can still change your mind."

About what? Aang wondered.

"Will you stop treating me like a _baby?_" she growled half-heartedly.

He exchanged a glance with Katara, suddenly feeling very "outside" of what was going on between the other two. They sat flummoxed as the argument continued, out of context, interruptions rampant.

"It doesn't _matter_ if you-"

"It's just the smell of those cells. They are absolutely-"

"We had them scoured _thoroughly_." He asserted back at her exasperatedly. "You're a person with a _conscience_. It's a natural reaction. There's-"

"For the last time, _you_ haven't been puking up your guts because you can't _smell_ like I can! All that _sh_-"

"Okay! okay." He headed off her vulgarity, palms up in surrender. "So you're sure."

She took a few breaths with her nose wrinkled from both irritation and nausea. "If you ask again I'm going to punch you. And _not_ in the _good_ way."

The ruler, who had seemed so poised upon their entrance, backed off and visibly stewed.

That seemed like the conclusion to their exchange, though what exactly had been settled, Aang hadn't a clue.

Still resplendent in his crimson attire, neither the wordless concession nor the change in mood detracted from the standing figure so much as transmuted him from simply elegant to elegantly dangerous. Zuko placed both palms and all his corresponding weight on the desk. When the soft towel slid down, he grabbed it tossed it forcefully back in its place behind the imposing piece of furniture.

Zuko looked back at the couple as if he had indeed momentarily forgotten they were there, and offered an explanation. "I didn't want to review in detail all the charges for war crimes held against these officers with Toph here. Hearing them once from the ostrich horse's mouth is _plenty_. But she's _insisted_, so . . ."

Katara stood. "Maybe Zuko's right-"

"Oh, no. Don't even _think_ about going all mother hen goose on me. I've gotten _enough_ of that from _him_. I am _so_ not in the mood." Toph warned the waterbender stiffly.

Glances flew between all three of the sighted benders swiftly, and came to roost on her again. Zuko now somehow managed to look annoyed and concerned at the same time. Katara was purely sympathetic. If Aang had to take a stab at what his own face looked like, it was lost. He hadn't expected this sort of complication.

Toph obviously noticed the swiveling of heads. "Tell me you guys aren't ganging up on me. I'm staying. Are we going to spend time arguing about this? We have a _job_ to do, here."

"I don't have to stay, either, Toph." Katara hedged.

Aang's eyebrows moved together. He wasn't expecting his long-time support to leave him at this crucial juncture, either. She noticed, and misread his thoughts. "What? There's no official reason for me to be here. This is an internal matter, mostly. Even if I were an official ambassador," which she wasn't, because she had declined the position, after being restlessly questioned by many of her people about what they perceived as a positive bias towards the Fire Nation, "Zuko knows my tribe's position on this. "Approval" is not a strong enough word."

Only about a fourth of them had attended Zuko's coronation. Aang definitely understood the warrior's desire to go home after being away instead of willingly staying on enemy soil, only freshly turned ally, and Hakoda had no reason to force them, but he doubted people who weren't benders could even appreciate the magnitude of the loss. Then again, many benders of the North and the Earth Kingdom had pushed for this. Zuko had staunchly refused to hand over his own people to the mercy of foreign punitive measures. Aang couldn't blame him. The monk couldn't be there to oversee every detail. Harsh labor sentences in the disparate sections of the feudal Kingdom could easily bleed into prisoner abuse. Theirs was a world that demanded hard proof that the new Fire Lord was serious about change, and if denied access to the people responsible, this was an alternative they could agree on. It at once earned much needed trust and recognition from the other Nations, and warned Fire Nationalists, wherever they hid, that there were still steep consequences awaiting any action they were considering.

"We can go catch up. You've done your part." Katara took a step towards Toph.

The earthbender, meanwhile, had gained a mean looking scowl at her wheedling, designed to make her not feel left out, which Aang admitted to himself sounded somewhat patronizing, if compassionately and unintentionally so. He took in a breath, meaning to intervene in the brewing trouble.

But before he spoke, Zuko was already saying, "I'm going to respect your decision, Toph." With a firm resolve in his eyes that was almost, but not quite, a glare, he added, "You will _not_, however, be accompanying us to Aang's-" he opened his mouth, closed it, decided on a word, "assignment, if you're sticking to your reasoning."

"But," she started to object.

"You want another round trip on the _boat_ or _Appa?_"

She paled queasily, then folded her arms together in a sulk, but said nothing.

Zuko's gaze relinquished her.

He had cleared an entire four days for this.

And that was no easy feat, given the equally as extensive demands on the Fire Lord's time.

Aang sighed heavily. Combing military reports and written interrogations. If everything went the way Zuko and Toph wished, the trip to the Boiling Rock several islands away.

It was going to be a very, very long four days.


	2. Chapter 2

Balancing Act: Chapter 2

by: TAZ-maniyack

(previously without the "y")

That night Aang and Katara were in their shared room, both utterly distraught at the detailed war stories they had heard from Zuko and Toph. Aang was deeply saddened, whereas Katara was wrestling with a mighty righteous anger. They were learning that they had avoided a lot of the ugliest parts of the war, even though that was simply mind boggling for the two teens.

He was sprawled out on the huge bed, and her head rested on his stomach. He absently ran his fingers through her thick, coarse hair.

"You're sure you want to sleep in here with me tonight?" he asked softly. "The servants will gossip."

"To hell with **his **_servants_," Katara retorted.

Despite her anger, the monk smiled. He knew that the emphasis on the words meant she was more complaining about Zuko still _having_ servants rather than cursing the people themselves.

"Katara, where would they _go_ if not the palace? Soldiers are already coming back home in droves and competing for quickly dwindling jobs."

She turned her face towards him, momentarily distracted from her state. "I, I guess I never thought of it that way." She closed her eyes and leaned into the soothing motions of his hands. "He could at least call them something else."

"Like what?" he asked, putting his hands behind his head, glad for any tangent that didn't involve the war, well, at least not directly.

"I don't know, _he's_ the Fire Lord! He writes the fancy scripts and edicts." she growled. "Let _him_ come up with a less demeaning title."

"And does he also have to go through all the _existing_ contracts and change them as well?" he teased.

"No. Just, ugh." She pressed her hands into her face. "Keep doing that thing with your hands, please. Why'd you stop?"

"Sorry." He knew she loved it. He moved his fingers against her scalp again, and her muscles relaxed a little. He figured this must feel better to people with hair. She had tried it on him once, but he appreciated back massages more. He had certainly been so _itchy _when he grew his hair out, and could easily picture liking it back then. Why didn't _everyone_ shave?

Then his mind drifted back to the topic they had left off. "Zuko told me Azula calls them _drudges._"

Any relaxation she had had up until that point was thrown out the window as she sat up. "Of course _she_ would have a worse name," she spat. "I'll bet half the burn scars they have are from _her._" A majority of them had some sort of mark, big or small. None of them were extensive and calculated as Zuko's, however, which made the whole issue of his treatment under Ozai even worse. It visually insinuated that he was _lower_ than a servant. And then there was the bit of what Iroh said that Katara found out from Toph earlier in the day. Azula had _laughed _when Zuko was marked.

"Sorry I mentioned it. I don't know what share she and Ozai split," he said heavily. "And I don't particularly want to know, either." This conversation was heading back towards violence, and though Katara would snarkily say that that was unavoidable when in the Fire Nation, he didn't like it.

He backtracked over their sentences, trying to find a suitable point to talk about. Because he _did_ want to talk. He certainly didn't want to dwell on his thoughts. Besides, he liked her voice, even when it was mean. Maybe even a little _more_ so, his brain tacked on the slightly naughty thought.

But she spoke up first. "Gods, at home everything is so _simple._ We don't write down _laws_. We _know_ how to treat each other. And when we _do_ mess up, we make amends and go about our business. Just the _idea_ of jails was so strange to me a year ago."

"I know what you mean. We _did_ write plenty of stuff on proper behavior but those were more about traditions and ritualistic address than anything else. The rest of the time we were free to do anything we wanted. We just didn't _want_ to conflict."

"What happened when you _did?_" she asked.

"The elders got even more stern than usual and made us compose long speeches of apology detailing_ exactly _the fault and reason for the disagreement, even if it was something small. It was pretty tedious."

"Sounds like something I'd_ love_ to instate with our children."

What felt like his entire head went deep scarlet and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable sitting on the same bed as she was.

She noticed and said quickly, "I, I meant "our" as in the tribe's children we took care of before you showed up! Not "our our.""

He drew up his knees and hid his face in them. "Right," he mumbled, "of course. Sorry."

"You always _apologize_ so much."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. Guess now I know why."

The discomfort abated some.

The honest reason they were sharing a room wasn't because they "couldn't stay away" from each other. It was much more tame than that. On their travels the four of them, Sokka, Toph, Katara, and Aang had quite frequently slept in piles like polarbear puppies. It had started the when they had met Azula, and they all decided they liked it. At the Western Air Temple they were a little more discreet, the boys taking one room and the girls another. First it was because Aang said they might disrespect the spirits of the nomads there that rattled around during the night, who had been gender separated during their lives. It later turned out Aang _did _once have to meditate to fend off a specter haunting Sokka's dreams. Aang was an airbender and the Avatar, so he must've been excused, and the other two were girls, but Sokka was none of those things. Aang had informed him he and the other three, Teo, Haru, and the Duke, might be the first outsider males to have stepped onto the grounds in generations. Sokka had grumbled that it was the Kyoshi warriors' dojo all over again.

The sleeping arrangement turned out to be a good idea anyway, what with the new people, who would probably give them odd stares, and the additional newcomers that came after that.

After getting used to other people's breathing to lull you to sleep, trying to nod off in a big, silent room by yourself was not fun.

And the Fire Nation rooms were _uncomfortably_ big and over furnished, for both of them. They had discussed the mutual feeling, and even though it probably _would _send tongues wagging, they were happy staying with each other. They felt few qualms about flying in the face of Fire Nation dating etiquette, and they were comfortable enough with the boundaries they had set between them, personally. They trusted each other with their _lives,_ long before Aang figured out what he was feeling or Katara considered his connection to Aunt Wu's prediction. To them, this was little more than an extension of that.

Nevertheless, Katara crawled to him on her knees and rested a hand on his arm. "You don't have to feel sorry for _thinking_ anything about us, you know."

"I know," he said to his ankles, face still burning slightly. "It's just, the monks. Even sterner about that sort of thing."

"What about freedom?" she asked, a little annoyed. "Sometimes it sounds like they were awfully _controlling_."

He gazed up at her. "I never considered it like that."

"_Never?_"

"Not really. I regretted running away." His eyes strayed from hers and he rested his cheek against the back of her hand. "Not just because of the hundred years that passed, though as we've learned today, _that_ was plenty awful in itself."

He took a breath. "I let myself be caged by my emotions._ Controlled _by them. Do you understand?"

In his periphery he saw her sit, and the hand slid out from under his head to fold with the other. "I think so. But." She straightened a bit. "Surely you resent them _some!_ They were turning your whole _life_ upside down."

"Really, Katara, I don't. Maybe you see it as restricting, but they were only "controlling," about things that, that" he tried to explain again, "that _took_ freedom from us."

"Seems about as logical as eye for an eye."

His hands fisted in the covers and he gave an uncharacteristic growl. "No, that _barbaric_ way of thinking is not anything like what they did _for_ us!"

She was momentarily dumbfounded at his use of that word. That was a word _Fire Nation _people used to describe everyone else! They had probably even used it to describe air nomads, once upon a time.

But, she thought, regulations and guidelines about what she might consider personal freedoms were nothing to compare to physical retaliation and bodily harm. And Aang was worn thin, right now. He had every right to be angry and mouthy as she was being, he just tried not to be. He saw it as a negative, even though she saw it as expressing herself.

"You're right," she said softly. "You're right. You must disagree with them about _some_ things, though, or you wouldn't be _with_ me, right?"

"You don't want to know the answer to that question."

Soft words with intent to _dodge_ or no, he might as well have just pushed her _off_ the bed. "_What?_"

"Please, Katara. I'm tired." the boy pleaded. "Maybe you're right about this stupid place. Maybe it does make people fight."

"You don't really think that."

"No. Th'attitudes are pretty overwhelmin'though," he mumbled sleepily.

"It's like a bad stench," she joked.

He chuckled despite himself. Maybe he was just weary of defending the people to her. Maybe what they had heard today made him less willing.

She wouldn't press him on that particular question. Not right now. But she simply couldn't believe that he wasn't angry with the Air Nomads _at all._ She didn't like people denying things. It had reached a head with Toph before she had finally admitted that she knew she had hurt her parents. "You don't blame them. For _anything?"_

"It's hard to blame people who are dead."

"Oh no, it's all too easy."

He started at something in her voice, searching her face, over which a shadow had passed.

She elaborated. "Aang, you can't _possibly_ tell me that you've never been _angry_ with your people for not _fighting back harder_. For not _surviving."_

"Of, of course I have," he said past a lump in his throat. "That's _different_ from being angry for the way they raised me."

"It is. Oh, Aang," she said more gently. She leaned forward, offering him a hug, and he uncurled and reciprocated. "You never told me. Until I thought of it just now, I always assumed your anger was just at the Fire Nation. I should have seen it _sooner_. For the longest time, I was, I was _angry_ at my mother for not fighting back. She was in exactly the same place I left her in when we found her. No scuff marks in the snow, _nothing."_

They were _both_ crying, and now it seemed inevitable from the first report they heard that the night would end with lots of tears and ensuing exhaustion.

They slept curled against each other for comfort, knees intermingling and noses almost touching.

When the first rays of the sun peeked into the room, Aang was the first to flutter his eyes awake, inner fire stirring in his stomach.

A small wave of disgust passed over him at the sensation due to yesterday's proceedings. Directly after defeating Ozai, he had gone to re-check his chakras with Guru Pathik before Zuko's coronation. Finding them all clear, he had at first expected the negative feelings associated with each chakra to not plague him much anymore. He quickly learned the opposite was true, that it was an ongoing process. The Air Nomad elders always said that feelings were inevitable, it was how you responded to them that determined your mettle.

He rubbed his eyes and rolled away from Katara, focusing on the little fire in him. He took up a modified meditation pose, palm turned up in his lap with a flame. It was a _part_ of him. The _Fire Nation_ was a part of him, he reminded himself.

He felt the larger presence of the Avatar Spirit close over the little fire, testing it.

He indulged Katara's quips and genuine resentment about the place. But he wouldn't allow himself the luxury of truly hating. He could dislike what had become of the teachings and beliefs, but he did not hate the people. Especially if he was to stay firmly at the helm of the presence that had the power to snuff out that little warmth and re-stoke it into something much more threatening.

He breathed in, and both the internal and external flames grew, pushing back against the presence. Everything is perfectly fine here. Go back to your den to sleep.

The presence whispered, unconvinced.

He pushed harder. A strangely insightful thought popped up almost of its own accord. The men he was getting to know through Zuko might seem _new_ and raw, like fresh burns, but everything that happened was human doing. Tragic, flawed, human doing._ Old. Ancient._

_A brief flash and he was standing, much taller, in unfamiliar surroundings. He punched a slab of rock, hurtling it at the other person, eliciting an anguished gasp,_

He must have made a sound and time must have passed because Katara was awake, standing in front of him, and shaking his shoulders. "Aang, are you all right?"

He blinked. The Avatar Spirit was gone. Felt like it had been as soon as whatever that was started. "I'm not, er, sure. Give me a sec."

He lit a fire in his hand again, and none of the inner recoil when he had awakened repeated itself. "Yes."

"What happened?" she asked, taking the hand without a flame.

He let it go out and reflected on the experience briefly. "This is going to sound kinda backwards, but I think Kyoshi just chased off the Avatar Spirit."

Yes, it must've sounded very odd, because she looked stumped. "That doesn't make any sense. Your past lives take hold of you _through_ the Avatar Spirit, don't they?"

"That may be how it appears. Roku has told me the experiences the Avatar has are rarely ever that straightforward, though."

"You weren't _that _upset by those reports were you?" she asked, suddenly wary. "Did I almost wake up to an exploded room?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No, it's not like that. The glowing is the Avatar State at full pitch. This was kind of an inverse. When we were on my, _her_ island" he corrected, casting away the last vestiges of her consciousness. He regathered his thoughts. "When I was defending her against the people of Chin Village, _she_ became _me_. I kind of went away. This was _me_ being _her_ in the past. And the Avatar Spirit, well, since I've mastered it I've felt it at random times. Sometimes it's downright peaceful and transcendent. Other times it's just a little," he smiled, "grumpy."

She still looked like she didn't quite believe him. ""A little grumpy"? That's an _awfully_ light way to describe the spirit of the whole world."

He shrugged. ""Pet" is an awfully light way to describe a ten ton fluffy flying giant."

She laughed, sending her unruly morning curls bouncing.

He loved it when she did that.

At breakfast, he told Toph and Zuko about it, too. Toph was uninterested. He remembered her words on the day before the invasion.

_You know what I just heard? Blah blah spiritual mumbo jumbo blah blah something about Space._

Zuko, however, seemed to hang on his every word. Probably because he had spent weeks drifting through the wreckage of the Fire Nation's navy at the North Pole.

The table, like their bedroom, was huge. Toph teased Zuko about how, if such important guests were coming to any other nobility's house, there would be food lining the entire length, of many different dishes to taste.

Zuko rolled his eyes and said, "Such waste is more my dad's style."

"Maybe you could make small sampler platters," she suggested. "Then whatever people like they could order more of."

"And I thought my _uncle_ was hung up on food," Zuko groaned.

Toph chuckled. "Hey, I like my different dishes."

Something about this comment seemed to make the Fire Lord slump.

"What's wrong, Zuko?" Aang asked.

"Nothing."

"Liar." Toph said. "Don't worry. He does that sometimes. Best not to bug him about it." She skipped straight to the next thought. "So, did you and your Sugar Queen have _fun_ last night, Twinkles?"

Aang choked on his bit of egg.

"_How_ old are you again?" Zuko snarked at the girl.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Toph, but we haven't done anything and aren't planning to." Katara rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it was actually the exactly the opposite of fun trying to fall asleep after blood and guts du jour."

Toph rubbed the balls of her feet on the stone floor while Katara spoke. To reach the floor, the small girl had to sit at the very edge of her chair. "Aw. Too bad. You're being frightfully honest. And I'm old as Twinkles, Sparky, and he's shacking up with a girl on his own."

"Seriously, Toph, knock it off." Aang asserted.

"Fine." She snapped her fingers twice and a waiter at the far end of the room walked up to her. "More sausages."

"At once, Toph."

"You could at least say please." The waterbender said tartly.

"Or I could dump dumplings in your lap," she said just as tartly.

"Same old Toph," Aang chuckled.

Katara watched the man retreat through the kitchen doors. "Hey, _he_ called you _Toph_, didn't he? Finally got some of them to stop calling you Lady Bei Fong?"

"Yep. Nice that none of _you_ have to bother with last names."

The Air Nomads had no use for second names, as they did not trace descendants in personal life, only by record. The Water Tribes, in long-standing tradition, drew no verbal divides between families, in the belief that the tribe itself should be treated as one large family.

The Fire Nation, in contrast, placed a great deal of weight on noble clans. But the _imperial_ family itself bore no surname. The Earth Kingdom perhaps stretched it even further, with its feudal structure. Maybe it was a _good_ thing that Ba Sing Se had authority in name only, because it and King Kuei were going through plenty growing pains without also having to deal with other areas' problems.

Convention established using the Avatars' first names, because much of the lower classes didn't have surnames.

Toph puffed out her lip to think. "They're still calling you Princess, though, aren't they? I shoulda done something about that before you came."

"It _is_ annoying."

Aang gave her a disapproving look.

"Hey! _**I**_ didn't bring it up!" she protested, referring to her promise to him the day before.

"And what would you have _done?_" Zuko asked Toph. "Pulled a _stunt_ like you did with your attendants?"

"Aw, _come_ on, Zuko, it was _funny_."

"What?" Aang asked.

"She tore up the big floor tiles in her room, _with_ the women on them."

"One of them _liked_ riding around through the air."

"Sure, as soon as she knew you weren't going to flip her like a pancake. The other three _didn't._" He turned to Aang. "And then we had to re-grout most of the room."

"Wait, _did _they think you were going to _hurt _them? Were you angry?" Katara scolded.

"No!" Toph explained. "Just annoyed with their constant fretting over me!" Then she grinned. "I decided you were the only one who could do that, Madame Fussy Britches."

"Awww. Really?"

"Really really."

Aang caught Zuko slightly slumping again.

"Well, that's sweet. But you should really go easy on them," Katara said sadly.

"Why? Just because they aren't benders?" she said, kicking her feet over the arm of her chair and lounging in it.

"Why? Because of everything they endured under the _previous _owners of this place!"

"Toph," Zuko added, "didn't you notice how they all _cowered_ around me when you first got here?"

"Well, yeah, but you're an intimidating guy."

"You, you think so?" he sounded genuinely surprised. Coming from Toph, that was praise.

"Sure."

Katara ignored her evaluation. "Just take that man you just sent in the kitchen. Looks like someone grabbed him by the elbow with fire and pulled."

"How was I supposed to know that?" she waved her hands in front of her face.

"Gah, right." Katara put her face in her hands. "Wow, I'm as bad Sokka."

"You don't _have_ to know that." Aang disagreed severely. "We've just spent nine hours going over _**decades**_of what some nobles did to their **own** _soldiers _who didn't measure up. How do you think they treated their _staff_?"

"Oh . . . _oh._" Toph sat up straight. "Zuko, why didn't you ever say anything about this?"

"I, um," he cast his eyes around the room.

Aang and Katara then looked at him, and he reddened a good deal. "Earthbenders are frequenting the palace for negotiations. A lot of them have worse dispositions than you. It didn't, it never seemed pressing."

"And? There's something else." Toph now had her feet on the floor again, reading him.

"You mentioned how you didn't like your parents' nagging. I didn't want to, you know, add on top of that."

Soon it was time for them to go back to reviewing reports. Ironically, although Aang probably disliked the entire process the most, he was the one who insisted on going into detail. He _had_ to know what he was doing was justified. This pushed him into having to ask questions like, Did they burn down the town and let people run or did they round them all up? Were their _orders_ better or worse than their actions?

Perhaps the worst part was the peripheral knowledge he gained. For instance, that teenage nobles were often given command to shocks of troops not only because of their birth status but because they were always ready and itching for a fight.

Katara had even said angrily, "This is the problem with giving kids authority, no offense, Zuko."

At the end of the thirteen profiles, the peaceful monk was ready to grind his teeth, take a long, excoriating shower, and crawl into bed even though it wasn't even dinnertime yet.

Toph's closing statement on the matter was this: "I don't know how to read, but I _do _know that words on paper can only tell you so much. If what they _did_ wasn't bad enough, the _way _some of them _talked_ about" she took a long, labored breath and her pale fingers dug into her elbows. "Past a certain point, I didn't even have to_ tell_ Zuko whether they were telling the _truth_ or not. They were _spite_ful and malicious curs."

"Thank you for indulging me anyway." The airbender said gratefully to both of them.

"We actually have one final case to discuss." Zuko touched the back of his head sheepishly. "And I'm not sure that the circumstances, but, that is to say, it didn't make the main list because, well- the active duty was only for a handful of _months_, and, but there are still, er, reasons for, uh,"

"Zuko, for The First Four's sake, stop dancing around the topic." Toph interjected. "You've been putting this off long enough." Her milky mint eyes stared at nowhere in particular, but still somehow projected a direct and focused vibe. "He wouldn't even work up the pluck to write you about it." Illiterate by no choice of her own, she clearly implied that she would have stepped in to do it in his stead had she been able. "He's talking about Azula."


End file.
